by Heidi Lowe
“You're lying to them, and it's not fair.”
“I'm not lying. Everything I said was the truth.”
“But you always call me a lousy assistant, and that you'd replace me in a flash if you could find someone stupid enough to take such low pay for such an awful job. Your exact words.”
I knew that would humor her. “I say a lot of things. You should know that by now.”
“Well it's not fair,” I said again, in a sulky manner.
I felt her hand on my thigh again, this time further up. The touch was different somehow, more scandalous. Her words were hushed when she spoke again. “What sort of truth would you have me tell them? That I left their virgin daughter's panties drenched just by talking to her? And would you also like me to tell them how I know that?”
She'd already removed her hand by the time my parents returned to the room, so they missed her display, the real Autumn Anders, leaving their daughter soaking wet for the millionth time.
“I know it's not up to the standards to which you're accustomed,” my mother said as she showed Autumn around the spare room. I'd followed along in order to make sure she settled in all right, or to at least pretend that I gave a crap that she did.
“It's perfect. And you have a lovely home. It reminds me of my parents' house. I feel warm and welcome.” She actually sounded as though she meant it, and that astounded me. Up until Greta's revelation about how laid back her parents were, and how decent her upbringing was, I'd imagined that Autumn's life prior to fame had been hellish, of a kind that had forced her into making rock music in order to escape her tragic past. It had never occurred to me that she'd come from a loving home that she missed. This made her seem human, where before she had not. I had been worried about bringing her here, to a small town no one had ever heard of, to a small home belonging to people with small minds. But I guess even she couldn't be ungrateful about this. My parents had let her stay on such short notice, forewarned by a very brief phone call half an hour before we arrived. If she'd complained about her room I reckon I would have pushed her from the second story window!
“There are some spare blankets and pillows in the closet, in case you need them. I hope you sleep well, Miss Anders.” My mother and Autumn said their goodbyes, and my mother left us.
“Your parents are great.”
I gave her a skeptical look. “Great how?”
She laughed. “How many ways are there to be great?”
“You don't think anyone is great.”
“That's not true. It's just rare that I meet people I like... who I'm not trying to sleep with, that is.” She lowered her voice on the latter half of the sentence.
“They seem to really like you, for some reason.” I didn't mean it to come out as disparaging as that, but there wasn't exactly a nice way of conveying it.
“I see someone's really letting their tongue loose now that they're in their own habitat. What happened to biting it, young lady?” Although I knew she was speaking metaphorically, her use of the word tongue, and calling me young lady in that deep, sexy voice suggested something a little more lewd. It made the hairs on the back of my neck spark up.
“I've never been good at it.”
“That's true. Still, I'm finding this new, bitchy you extremely hot.”
Teasing me again. I ignored it.
“Will you be all right in here?”
“How much trouble can I get into?”
“Okay, well I'm just across the hall if you need anything. Goodnight.”
“You mean you're not going to stay and tuck me in like a good babysitter should?”
I ignored that too and retired to my own room. It was a room that I'd started to find depressing from about age sixteen, but had done nothing to rectify. It was still very much a teenage girl's space, with the light pink decor, and the single bed with covers to match the walls and drapes. I'd specifically held off redecorating, because to do so would have meant that I'd planned on staying there forever.
I'd already changed into my nightwear, brushed my teeth, climbed into bed and switched off the lamp when my door creaked open. I reached for my glasses in the dark, then switched on the lamp again just in time to see Autumn closing the door behind her.
“Is everything all right?” I asked, perplexed by her appearance, and also by the look in her eyes. It was one I'd never seen before and thus couldn't make out.
“No, it's not.” Her journey across the room to me was slow and measured. “And I know I shouldn't be in here, but God help me, I felt compelled to come. Like I didn't have a choice.”
I sat up, slightly concerned now. What could possibly have compelled her to sneak into my bedroom at this hour? “What is it?”
“I tried to get to sleep, I really did, but I couldn't. Not when I knew that you were lying in here, the untouched flower. I would be lying if I said I haven't thought about you and that little piece of heaven you have between your legs. In fact, I've thought about it a lot.”
As shocking as her words were, it wasn't them that made my breath catch in my throat, but the slow way she removed her clothes and dropped them to the floor. No words escaped my lips as I watched her, staring open-mouthed.
“I have a little confession to make. I didn't get thrown out of my hotel room. That was a lie.” Now down to just her underwear.
“Why would you lie about that?”
“Because if I told you the real reason why I wanted to be here tonight, with you, I don't think you would have come to get me.” Next went her bra, discarded lazily behind her. Then she threw back the duvet and crawled onto the bed, in such a predatory fashion I thought she would eat me alive.
“W–what r–reason?” Not only my voice, but my whole body trembled, so certain of where this was going, and thus terrified because of it.
She spread my legs with fierce determination, and slotted herself between them. “I want to feel how tight you are before another person has been inside you,” she breathed against my lips, before tugging my nightdress off over my head. “I want to fuck you in the bedroom you grew up in, with your parents down the hall. I want to cause and hear your first moan when you're penetrated for the first time.”
She pressed her lips to mine with the lightest touch, as she had done before; only this time I knew she wouldn't pull away, leaving me with nothing. She'd come here for her prize, and as I stared into her eyes, those expressive blue marbles that sparkled like diamonds, I knew she wouldn't leave without obtaining it. I could have caused a flood with how wet I was for her at that moment!
The first body to body contact came with the graze of her nipples against mine; the connection light and soft and incidental as she kissed me. But that didn't matter to my innocent breasts – any contact like this was new to me, and delicious whether purposeful or not. My nipples stiffened within seconds.
Everything she did was slow, calculated, so unlike the way I'd imagined it with her; from the way she let her tongue roam around in my mouth, in a moist, breathless encounter, to the way she lay me down. Building the suspense, adding to my anxiety. Even as she removed the final item of clothing from my shivering body, she did so in no hurry, sliding my panties down with ease, holding my gaze the whole way, as if dragging out every agonizing second to frighten me.
“Is this about winning?” I asked when she'd released my lips from hers.
She planted kisses on my neck and jaw, more forceful than before.
“Partly,” she answered simply. “But mostly it's about how wet I am, how wet you've made me, and how tasty this beautiful little slice of paradise is.” She lightly patted my crotch, her smile wide and white. “And don't you think I've waited long enough?”
Was that her way of saying that she had always wanted me? That my “little slice of paradise” had been on her mind a lot longer than she'd ever let on? This thought both terrified and exhilarated me. But how could I ever hope to be good enough for someone like her who'd seen and done everything? What did a virgin like me have to
She kissed me again, her hand still cupping my vagina as though she'd stated her claim to it. “Breaking you in is going to be so much fun.”
“Will it hurt?”
“At first, a little. But after a while you'll be fine.”
“Be gentle,” I said, letting out a rattly breath.
“Always.” There was something sincere in her eyes as she removed my glasses, that made me trust her when I never had before. I was trusting Autumn Anders with my most prized possession, something I would have considered insane a couple of months prior. How things had changed.
The relish in her eyes as she bore down on my breasts, taking each one between her lips in turn, should have filled me with fright. Such raw passion, hunger, I'd never thought anyone was capable of showing toward me. She took one hardened nipple between two fingers, and pricked it with her tongue, the touches ever so slight, but glorious all the same. I thought I would faint from the feeling. She drove her fingers between my legs, glided through the ocean of excitement that dwelt there, then brought it back out, newly moistened, using it to wet the other teat. My body trembled beneath her, almost too sensitive to touch, and we'd only just gotten started. As I'd anticipated, she moved onto the juice-stained teat and let her tongue go wild on it, sucking off all traces of my wetness.
“Oh God...” I moaned, trying to stifle it by biting down on my lower lip. But that feeling, it was out of this world – I felt it through my whole body, not just the area she was violating. Nibbling, sucking, licking, it was too much for my now bruised nipples.
She didn't release them until she'd completely decimated them, until they were truly wrecked. Then she smiled down at them with pride for what she'd put them, and me, through. And when she peered into my eyes again, that tiny smile told me that this was just the beginning – that she had worse planned for me. Worse, yet so much better.
Her eyes gleamed as she spread me wide, exposed me, made me vulnerable. My shaky breaths must have only added to her feeling of being in control. Her hand drifted between the folds of my vagina for a second time, but remained there a little longer than before, gliding up and through, hitting my hole and my bean several times.
“Oh...” I murmured, being sent to heaven and back, over and over by her brief, gentle, teasing touches.
“Mmm, that feels nice, doesn't it?” she cooed, her voice a whisper that only I would hear.
“Yes!” I almost cried my response, my vagina throbbing aggressively as I bucked and writhed, thrusting my pelvis up and trying to force more contact.
I was so lost in my delirium, my body aching with need, my cavern throbbing for more of her touch, that I barely noticed when she removed her fingers and replaced them with her mouth. And that was the point at which the whole room began to spin, and I felt as though I was having an out of body experience.
There was nothing gradual or measured about her tongue meeting my bean. Her suction on it sent spasms running through my body. I thought I would expire instantly. I probably would have had she not kept stopping and starting, giving and taking away when she sensed that I was teetering on the edge of an orgasm. She switched gears, turned up the pressure at will, eliciting all types of moans and groans from me.
“Shh,” she whispered against my sex. But she had to know this would only make matters worse, as the vibration trebled the sensation.
She brought herself back up, pushed my legs up around her waist and we kissed. For the second time I tasted myself on her. And as her lips were on mine, the softest lips I'd ever felt, her fingers battled their way inside me.
I cried out and bucked against her, the pain striking me like lightning. The first ever entrance beyond the kingdom wall. I felt like a conquered country, penetrated and broken for the first time, having once assumed that it was impenetrable. The pain came as much from shock of the unknown as it did from the actual contact. And when she dove steadily deeper, I let out another cry, which she caught in a kiss. This cry, I noticed, and probably so too did she, was equal parts moan, and not the bad sort. The truth was, as uncomfortable as it felt to be probed, it also felt wonderful. How could pain feel this good?
“I love that you're brand new,” she whispered against my lips, gliding out again.
For the brief second that she wasn't inside me, I should have been relieved that some of the agony had ceased; but I only wanted more. I didn't need to ask, though. The second time she entered me, even though I was eagerly anticipating her, forced another whine from my mouth, another half moan.
She laughed quietly as she kissed my face, my jaw, my cheek, each kiss to accompany each entrance and exit, and each new moan-cry. “Shh, honey. Do you want your parents to hear me fucking their little girl?”
“I'm not a little girl,” I breathed.
“No.” She found my lips again. “I'm making you a woman.” She pounded a little harder, and I moaned a little louder, the pain now all but forgotten, or at least ignored.
Her being inside me made me sensitive to all feeling; the touches of her upper chest and breasts against mine, the outside of her thigh against the inside of mine, her hot, minty breath on my face as she whispered sweet little nothings to me, only making me more wet.
“I could stay inside you forever. Would you like that?”
“Mmhmm,” I whimpered, nodding and holding her gaze.
“I can't think of a better place to be but here.”
“I don't want you to be anywhere else but here,” I said. There was an intensity to the way she looked at me, the way she drove her fingers into me over and over, but I never felt the need to look away. I just wanted us to be one, for our bodies to merge into one.
“How do you feel?” she asked, slowing down her movements, her lips grazing mine.
“Terrific.”
“Not sore?”
“A little.” More than just a little, but I wasn't about to tell her that, for fear she would stop.
She eventually did, without warning, carefully and painstakingly removing her fingers while we stared into each other's eyes. She watched me as I caught my breath, as my body tried to recover; it was as if she was contemplating something, though I couldn't tell what.
Then she climbed out of her panties. My panic had deserted me long ago, and all that remained was curiosity and lots of aching and yearning for more of her. With the removal of her final item of clothing came the assurance that this wasn't over.
She slotted herself between my legs again, pushing her tongue into my willing mouth, and we kissed hungrily and thirstily, her need to devour me seemingly stronger than mine. And when she pulled her lips away, she looked down at me, took me in for a moment without saying a word. As soon as she pushed my thighs up onto my stomach and went to slot herself between them again, I knew what was coming.
Panic.
“Wait. Is this safe?” As much as I wanted her, as much as my body ached for her, I knew that she'd been with a lot of women, and I didn't want to catch anything my first time at the rodeo. It wasn't the politest thing to inquire about, and maybe it would put a dampener on the proceedings, but I didn't regret asking.
She didn't seem offended. “I haven't done this with a woman in a long time. Years. It's not something I ever do with them.”
If that was true, why was she willing to do it with me?
Maybe I shouldn't have been so trusting, but something about the way she looked at me told me that her words were truthful.
“We don't have to–”
“No,” I jumped in quickly, “I want to. More than anything.”
That was her cue, and she took it.
All of the things I felt then were new and alien to me, and although everything she possessed between her legs was the same as mine, I couldn't make out what everything was. All I knew was how amazing it felt. At first her moistness was cold and strange as it combined with mine, her folds joining with mine in a moist assembly. Knowing that I had caused that stream between her thighs, that my inexperienced body had brought her to that point, filled me with joy.
As she pressed down a little, that was when the real fun began. I hadn't realized how swollen my nub had become until it collided with hers, equally as swollen. She teased me with tiny bursts of contact, as my body trembled against hers, her palms pressed to the bed, on either side of my head. Her nipples scraped against mine several times as she gently glided up and down. Then she rested on her elbows, bringing her face to mine, letting her lips linger on mine without kissing me.
Now our stiff nubs couldn't bare to be apart. The eating and the fingering that had come before this were great, but this...this was amazing. The best feeling in the world. I knew then that this act, whatever it was, would forever be my favorite thing to do in the sack. And that she, despite what the future held, would forever be my preferred partner with whom to do it.
She caught my moans in her mouth, and let out quiet ones of her own. She didn't hold back either, grinding her sex hard into mine, riding and rolling like she was playing a sport. I could even hear the faint sounds of our sexes colliding, which only made me moan louder.
“You feel perfect,” she whispered, again and again, kissing me and stroking my face with her thumb, her breasts pressed onto mine. “I knew you would.”
It was only then, staring into her eyes, seeing the intensity with which she rode me, the passion and tenacity as we became one, that a realization hit me. The last woman she'd done this with must have been Nancy, the love of her life. The woman who had made her forever emotionally unavailable to all other women. Eight years ago. She'd waited eight years to do this again, and it was with an inexperienced woman she could barely stand. I knew it had to mean something, but couldn't think what. Besides, trying to decipher it only stole my attention away from this glorious thing we were doing. That would be a concern for another day, when she wasn't grinding her moist sex against me, when she wasn't telling me how perfect I felt.
We had the same penetrative stare fixed on each other when my bedroom door burst open.
“Mom, Dad, what the hell are you doing in here?” I screamed, horrified, feeling my face burning up. My parents stood in the room, thunderstruck, gazes averted to another part of the room, where their daughter didn't have a naked woman pressed against her.
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